Memoir from the Metro: Tank Squad
by WhyCan'tIHaveNiceThings
Summary: A communist station is being attacked by Nazi forces. Four men and a HE spewing tank of divine intervention seeks to put a stop to that.


_It is war! The damned Nazis are storming our stations, brutally pillaging and murdering. We cannot let this happen!_

* * *

The soldier sat, pushing against the hard metal barrier, as bullets pounded on him. Reich had pushed up to the station. The sound of gunfire, explosions, and pain filled the air. The trooper held on to his helmet, and blindly fired his pistol. His brain caught a bullet, when he peeked over...

I knew the hands of death awaited outside the door. We were at the previous station, in the workhouse. A trooper rounded the corner, fresh from the battlefield, only to meet the furious face of the commander. The commissar grabbed him by the collar. "Soldier, are you hit!?" He yelled into his face as he inspected him. "N-no sir, I was going to get-" His explanation was cut short as the commissar shot him with his pistol, his last sounds a gurgle. He turned to face the four of us. "Listen up! When I joined, we didn't have any fancy bullets and guns. We had lead bars!We had to share it! Buck up boys, you are lucky men to use this today! Tank squadron, you had your chance to be afraid _before_ you joined. But to guide you back to the true path, I brought this motivational device." He pulled off the tarp, to reveal a seemingly divine intervention. And we got to use it. "The chief is going to jump in this tank," He pointed at me."drive across that bridge, and blow up any Nazi son of a bitch. Pull yourselves together, because you're going with him!"

"Yes, commissar, sir!" We chanted in unison. He smirked. "That is what I like to hear!"

* * *

Here I sat at the turret of the tank. We neared the battlegrounds, the faint sound of war growing ever nearer. "Chief! Get ready!" Our driver said. "ETA is in 15 seconds!"I gripped the handles of the machine gun tightly. This would not end well. The far sounds soon became a painful reality, as the tank chugged along the rails to reveal the station a broken, bloody mess. I saw the men on the sides of the rails bloodied, faces torn off, limbs ripped apart from their bodies. My goggles blurred with my sweat, my heart pumping rapidly. Hail of gunfire surrounded me, but the metal shield deflected it. I pressed the trigger, hard. The bullets started rattling against the box. An AK was no match for this. Below me, the cannon was firing. "Ready! Fire!" The gunner would repeat. My own fire mowed down the Nazi soldiers. Heads ripped off their torsos, men died before they hit the floor. I narrowed my eyes. "Chief! Anti Tank on the platform!" I looked up. There was the bastard, readying his rocket at us. I pulled the gun up, firing. He flew back, as the bullet pierced his heart. "Nice! Go for the rest arming in the opposite end, chief!" My eyes darted down. Casing after casing flew out, as my finger firmly pulled the trigger back. Heated fire blocked my vision. Screams flooded the air. The tank was no match for them. I stopped, as the gun was overheating. Anymore, and the barrel might pop off. "Ready!" My comrade said down under. "Fire!" The cannon went off. And I saw a explosion of debris and men. What was left was a charred spot. Reich soldiers, as I peered closer, were in fear. They waved to pull back. The cowards started running. They can't outsmart bullets though.

My rounds penetrated each of their "non-mutant" skulls. I smiled, turning the gun to lead each of the weaklings. They stumbled, fell, in their foolish attempt to fight another day. The sounds started to fade from the station, leaving only the fires burning and groaning of the wounded. I scanned the area. Only the bodies of the dead and dying I saw, on the opposite platform. Blood and scorches painted the walls. "Seems clear. Anyone dead?" I asked. "Other than the nazi bastards, we're okay. " The engineer informed. I surveyed the area again. Only the four of us were left. Not a living soul. I sighed. The engineer chuckled. We started to laugh. Shortly after, out loneliness was soon brought to an end, when bikes, and men started to file in. The commissar was glad to see us. "Boys, you did a damn fine job today! Pavlov can't have done a better job. You each deserve medals! Come with us, we'll get you back home." I was glad to hear those words, relief flooding through my veins. I was too tired to think of the destruction I caused. So was the crew. We drove the tank back, into the workhouse, to greet the hordes of men clapping and cheering. I took of my helmet, and goggles, and climbed out.

* * *

_April 2034, four men in a tank held the line from the fourth Reich as they tried to invade the Red Line. Communist casualties reached 1023 men, 200 wounded. Reich troops had a higher count. This event would be remembered as Pavlov's Stand._


End file.
